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#And watch suffer (affectionate)
menace-behaviour · 2 years
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takumishu · 18 days
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Just going to accept that I'm gonna have a permanent "Ugh, well fine, whatever" reaction to RFTA Edgeworth because honestly the direction they took for his character works in some ways I do find interesting, and does not work in others. And by others I mean please stop comforting and reassurring him and let there be weight to his actions here narratively.
#send post#c: Edgeworth#It's not that ''character did not do specific bad thing they were accused of and the focus is more on their enthusiastic#participation in a violent status quo rather than specific individual wrongs'' can't work. Like it does work in theory. And it especially#does w a lot of who Edgeworth is as a person and professionally being affected by him being a public figure and him taking care to try and#balance a moral compass and controlling his image and his own sense of justice; him being target to an especially nasty rumour mill and thi#contributing to his drastic complete disappearance from the public eye works and makes sense.#I just feel like there's something lost if every character is reacting to him like ''but you didn't know so it's fine!'' every time he beat#himself up regarding what he's participated in? Like sure ultimately the fact that he had to leave and work on himself and he came back a#new man is the narrative saying ''yeah there was something wrong going on here'' but it undermines the feeling of This is His Fault and He#Still Did Bad when he's the only one saying it. Then to the audience it feels more like exaggerated guilt and self-hatred rather than guilt#based on something Actual that he did wrong even if he wasn't the sole perpetrator; or even a willing one! Bc yadda yadda participating in#the system as it is without inclination towards change or moving against it makes its crimes your own.#Silver-lining is he really had the worst time of his life and I love watching him suffer (affectionate) so I had that at least#I definitely put my foot down when Lana said ''It was us who acted corruptly not you'' though like we were almost there... you almost had#it and then you said this at the eleventh hour and now I have to grumble about this lol
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rice-enjoyer · 3 months
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me when. me when i can't sleep and its 11pm and i get my grubby little gay hands on a mystery crime-y fucked up little series that i've watched 3 times now....
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littleelvenguy · 10 months
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:O Who's this? Flirty boat guy? Please tell me he's gonna be a major character- that was way too much detail for him to not at least get a NAME
Yes I just think he sounds cute shhh
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starbuck · 2 years
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“Yeah, I mean, all the characters strike me as being… They’re all sort of outcasts, you know? Very eccentric or… or… messed up. None of them are sort of… uh… really could be living anywhere else but in the middle of nowhere. They’re definite outcasts.” — Ravenous Composer Damon Albarn, about the Fort Spencer crew
vs.
“What's to be done with the unwanted ones? The men who do not fit, whom civilization must prune from the vine to protect its sense of itself. Every culture since earliest antiquity has survived this way, defining itself by the things it excludes. So long as there is progress, there will always be human debris in its wake, on the outside looking in. […] Here, they must cease to be... to be able to find peace.” — Black Sails, XXXVIII.
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uselessnbee · 2 years
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i can write a whole essay about how Mike Wheeler is misunderstood and overhated and no one is allowed to hate him or say anything even remotely bad about him and that's my son and i will personally fight anyone who disagrees with me
but then i remember that airport "hug" and suddenly i'm just like
nvm i hope he suffers
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madame-mongoose · 2 years
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For the character bingo- thoughts on Victor Frankenstein?? 👀
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EHEHEHEHHE ONE OF MY TOP BLORBOS EVER WORIWI I was soooo close to bingo man but Victor is not a beast. He's more of a thing. A sad pathetic little wet rag that I'd wipe my feet on before entering a room
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soulsxng · 1 year
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"̸D̷o̴ ̶n̸o̸t̷ ̶'̷P̴l̵e̷a̷s̸e̴'̷ ̶m̸e̸,̶ ̵c̴h̷i̵l̵d̸.̴ ̴Y̴o̴u̵r̵ ̷f̶o̷o̴l̸ ̷s̵e̵l̴f̴ ̸s̷a̸w̷ ̶f̶i̵t̵ ̶t̸o̶ ̴c̵a̴u̶s̸e̶ ̴t̸h̸i̷s̴ ̷s̸i̸t̸u̸a̸t̷i̷o̸n̷;̶ ̶y̵o̶u̶ ̵m̷a̷y̵ ̷f̷i̵n̴d̵ ̶y̴o̷u̸r̸ ̴o̴w̷n̸ ̸w̵a̷y̵ ̶o̶u̴t̷ ̸o̶f̵ ̸i̶t̶.̸"̵
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all I want to do is watch my silly little shows but alas I must confront the horrors (doing my ap environmental science homework)
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i don’t trust fans of teams who always win like what do u know about love and suffering
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arkfeather · 2 years
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i WOULD force ruiz to go hiking with me and hed indulge me bc he loves me <3
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mochinomnoms · 5 months
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In regard to interspecies romance
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Humans have a fairly easy time pursuing the other species in Twisted Wonderland, though there are exceptions to that rule.
multi (separate) x reader [wc] - 2,252 [note] - one of the first things i ever wrote, though i never posted cause i didnt edit it. thought i would anyways cause its kinda cute. Edited 12/14/23 to add a readmore
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Despite their animal like tendencies and courting methods, it's incredibly common to see human-beastmen couples and families. Perhaps it's due to how similar their behaviors are to their animal counterparts, but humans are fond of how beastmen flirt and display affection. Beastmen are offended by the comparison, but it's hard to deny how similar, and cute, they are to the common wolf, hyena, or lion.
Wolf and other canine beastmen enjoy being close to their mates. They like to be physically affectionate, almost playful with their partners. They'll nuzzle into the crook of their neck—no matter how much bigger they are compared to their human—lean against them when they walk, and will happily be by their beloved's sided at all times. Furthermore, they primarily show their effectiveness as partners by being great providers, regardless of gender, and showing off how tight-knit their packs are. After all, family is very important to them, and they'll expect to have one, no matter how big or small, with their partner in the future.
If you catch Ruggie trying to slyly and smoothly place a hand on the small of you back when moving through crowds, no you don't. If a person notices Jack momentarily grabbing (gingerly, mind you) your sides as he slips behind you to reach the potion ingredient on the shelf above you, don't mention how his touch lingers ever so slightly. Maybe take it with a grain of salt when Jack tries to invite you to visit his family over break, as friends, of course. And when Ruggie brags to you about how well he watched over the neighborhood kids growing up, how he'd make for a great family man, it's all hypothetical.
Feline beastmen are more reserved in their affections in public, especially compared to canines, and even more so for lion beastmen. It's more common for them to show affection in more subtle manners, such as buying their partner's food and drinks without being asked, going out of their way to help them when they're struggling at school or work, and are able to spend hours just in their general vicinity. As long as their beloved is around, they're happy. In private, though, expect to have their entire body draped over them, weight and all, shoved into their personal space to the point that it becomes a foreign concept. Leona embodies this to his entire core, too prideful to perform PDA, but just prideful enough that he knows he can take up all your time and space with no consequence. Unless that consequence is your love and affection, which he supposes he could suffer through if you hear him purring, don't point it out.
All lion beastmen hold their pride close to their heart (no matter how much a certain prince would deny it) and their partner is no exception. Their pride is an intrinsically developed social network made of an extended, but closed family network. It requires all new partners to be carefully and slowly introduced to the rest of the pride, more so in Leona's case due to the royal family being traditionally made up of Sunset Savana nobility. You won't be the first non-beastmen, but are the first foreigner in a very long time to be introduced. Don't worry, though, Leona is nothing if not patient, and his family are just happy to know that he's found someone.
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On the other end of the spectrum, however, are human-fae relations. Uncommon, though not for a lack of trying on humans' parts, due to most of the fairfolk residing in the isolated Briar Valley. The complicated history between the two species, ancient to humans but still relatively fresh for fae, doesn't help either. There's also the unfortunate consequence of humankind's rather short lifespans compared to the average 1,000-year lifespan of the fae. Unless the fae is in their final hundred or so years, they'll almost always outlive their partner without magical interference.
It's not impossible though, and as younger fairfolk leave the valley to explore the world, more marriages have resulted in half-fae children, both human and beastmen. As partners, fae are devoted to the health and safety of their loved ones. Increasing tenfold into nearly coddling territory with non-fae. Compared to them, their humans and beastmen are awfully fragile and naive, and require their protection. This can cause animosity between them, however, and only fae that are willing to learn and change their old ways result in happy, long-lived marriages.
They're also generally known to have lengthy courting methods: not dating, that implies something casual, no they court. Once they've established interest in you, their end goal is marriage, no ifs, ands, or buts. Fairfolk are generous with gifting during courtship: all gifts are about an equal-exchange and your acceptance of their gifts is a reciprocation of their feelings. At the end of the courtship, you can expect a small feast to be displayed at a ceremony held between their and your family. This is an especially important ceremony when courting humans and beastmen: fairy food can often cause lasting damages to those that consume it without permission. By offering their food to you and your kin, they are welcoming you into their world and telling you that they will never intentionally bestow harm to you or your kin. If you choose to accept the food, then you agree to do the same til the end of your days.
Lilia is a strange case, having already lived a long life and being well traveled, a gleeful participant in the strange customs and traditions of humans and beastmen. He'd much rather participate in other's dating and courtship rituals than his own people's. It's fascinating how fleeting the process can be, yet it can result in everlasting devotion. Don't mistake his flexible nature for disinterest, however. He's still a fae, and if you start finding silly little knickknacks of his on their desk, you can expect to never be rid of him.
The Draconia family-line is steadfast in their traditions, even if Lilia raised the latest prince. So don't expect anything other than the previously explained rituals from Malleus, even if you're not aware of them. Taking gems, jewelry, and clothing made of the finest material you'll ever lay hands from his hoard means little to him if it means you'll accept the gift (and him). Even if you aren't aware of how courtship works, the moment you pick up the black ring with the big oval emerald and Briar Valley crest, you're practically engaged in his eyes.
The courtship is long, even for Malleus who was one step away at every turn to skip over the entire thing in favor of just eloping. All for the person who decided that the great and terrifying Malleus Draconia was actually just a simple Mr. Hornton, a friend, companion who just wanted someone to stay by his side. If it means calling you his spouse, his fellow ruler, and the only love of his life even a moment sooner, then he'd be willing to throw tradition and ritual out of the very tall tower window just to do so.
Many years later, when you reminiscing how the two of you first met, and how long it took you to notice his feelings, you'll offhandedly mention the random gifts you found at your doorstep. How you wish you knew who was leaving those precious stones and golden amulets with no indication on who the admirer was. Upon further questioning, you'll tell him that you didn't even know you were being courted until two months into the ritual. It'll then click in Malleus's mind how utterly lucky he was that the two of you even got together in the first place.
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It may be surprising, but human-mer relations have been extraordinarily rare. Only a handful of them have popped up since the times of the Sea Princess, who left her home for a human prince. In fact, you could probably count them on one hand! Perhaps this is due to the difficulties of having a romance between land dwellers and undersea folk; after all, it's much easier for humans, fae, and beastmen to interact when they all live on land. Merfolk can come up to the surface, and have been doing moreso in the last century, but having a relationship with someone who quite literally could not breathe in the same air/water as you is near impossible. At least, not without significant effort on one or the other's part.
Nearly all the human-mer romances that have occurred in history resulted in either one or the other abandoning their home to turn into a human/mer and live the rest of their days with their love in their new world. Certainly a romantic notion to be sure, but it most definitely require their love to be truly eternal. Or else you might run the risk of resentment brewing between the two. With a slowly growing need to easy access transformation potions and spells for business and diplomatic reasons, such romance is not far from reach, at least for those with money to spare. The next issue though would be the significant difference between land dweller and undersea folk's courting methods.
Perhaps it can be contributed to the more...feral nature of merfolk. Most of them still retain more animalistic features and behaviors than the average beastman. The twins are no exception to this. Even if you were to remove their claws, mucus covered skin, and 6-ft tail, you're still left with eyes suited for a deep-sea predator, nose that can smell the tiniest drop of blood in a pool, and rows of razor sharp teeth begging to bite down on your neck. The deep-sea is not only cold, but quite ruthless. So, it'll probably come as no surprise that moray eels will prove themselves as suitable partners by fighting either their competitors or you. If they can prove that they can hold their own, protect you from the horrors of the deep, then they have the right to go for your heart. That's not to say softer sentiments don't exist, and while similar the twins are still two separate people with different tastes. These tastes show during courting, though mers have a more casual date-like ritual.
Like fae, merfolk court via gifts, particularly handmade or ones they found themselves, and Floyd is awfully fond if gifting you the strangest things. A tooth that was knocked out from the student who shoved you a little too hard, a rock you tripped over in P.E., or a sand dollar he found on a trip to the beach were a few of the many items he gave you. Jade is similar, though he's more fond of making his own gifts. A necklace made of seashells found at the beach you had your first date in, a terrarium he made from plants that remind him of you, but your favorite was the small garden he started tending to on your kitchen windowsill. Breakfast was particularly delicious when made with his fresh mushrooms. Expect soon after the gifts lots of physical affection, public and private.
Don't be mistaken, they'll still bully you. But each of Floyd's bone-crushing hugs will be accompanied by a soft headbump from his forehead to yours. Jade's teasing, mean remarks will follow with a swift, sweet peck to your knuckles. They'll grab your notebook and hold it above their head until you agree to give them a kiss or punch them in the stomach, both are acceptable responses. Be a little mean back, they like the idea of a sweet and cute little human that can throw a punch. Your their sweet little human, and you make life in the deep exciting. Just don't ask about their flushed face every time they see you yawn, they aren't quite ready to explain that one yet.
Azul intensely studied a variety of topics before coming to land, even briefly glossing over dating, romance, and marriage before deciding he wouldn't need it anytime soon. He regretted that soon after meeting you, though he made do with what he knew. And what he knew as food. A combination of octo-mer courtship and being the son of a cook, Azul will discreetly court you by personally cooking and feeding you your favorite meals. It's the result of the dangers of ancient octo-mers eating their spouses after mating. Afterall you can't eat more if your already full. While not something they have to worry about now, it's an old ritual still used today, Azul has hear the way to a person's heart is their stomach and can wholeheartedly agree.
What's surprised you the most was what followed after, especially for someone as physically reserved as Azul: octo-mers are extremely clingy and affectionate. He doesn't have the heart to do anything more than handholding and chaste kisses to your cheeks in public, but he yearns to wrap all 8 tentacles and two arms around you so tightly that your gasping for a breath that he steals with his lips. He won't mention it, but he can taste the salt from your skin and the pulse from your wrists with his suckers. Take it from someone who grew up with a refined palate, he thinks your taste is equivalent to ambrosia from the gods, though that might be the lovesickness speaking.
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i have a hard time writing savanaclaw for some reason, but imma working on it now! also tagging for all the guys is stressful idk what i should enter, like fullname or just first name idk man!! pls reblog and comment! lmk what you time, xoxo
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princeguri66 · 4 months
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Back on my affectionate reader bullshit because I just want to smother those assholes with love.
TF 141 x Male! Reader
Kissing the homies goodnight.
18+ Minors DNI!
Cw: whole lotta fluff, it only gets suggestive at the end and that's it
It started with a joke. Gaz drunkenly saying "Hey, if I win will you give me a goodnight kiss?" Before you start a game of cards, you all laughed it off then. Until it starts getting later in the evening and when you excuse yourself to go to bed Soap calls out to you with a chuckle, "Ey, don't forget about Gaz's kiss" you trudge your way back to them eyes drooping. They all expect you to kick Soap or something akin to that, but you surprise them by leaning down and placing a kiss on Gaz's eyebrow before tiredly muttering a "goodnight" and walking away.
And if that didn't give them any ideas..
For the next week it was usually Soap and Gaz pestering you about your kisses being rewards.
"If I shoot all the targets will you give me a kiss?"
"If I beat him in this fight will you give me a kiss?"
It gives them such a boost of energy.
You don't expect anyone else other than them to ask you for one until you're watching a game on the telly with Ghost. "If my team wins, I want a reward like them" He says to you, referencing Soap and Gaz and you nod albeit a bit shocked.
And by a stroke of luck his team wins, you reward him with a kiss to his temple.
And when it comes to Price.. 
It occurred after a tough but successful mission, and it was all thanks to you. What you had to handle was rough but you still came back with minimal injuries.
After a quick check up and shower you head to the common room on base to lounge with your team, but when you just stepped in the area Price got himself up from the couch claiming he needs to get back to work. 
As he passed you he said a quick "Good job out there lad." And held you by your shoulder to pull you close and kiss you right on your cheek before walking away leaving you stunned.
The team saw it all of course, sitting still a bit stunned as well, seemed like your habit of kissing your homies rubbed off on the captain.
You were too focused on the lingering feeling of Price's beard scratching your face that you didn't hear Soap saying how that it's so unfair, how he also had a successful mission but didn't get a kiss from their dear captain, only realizing you've been standing there like an idiot this whole time when Soap ran past you trying to catch up with the captain to claim his well deserved prize.
And it just evolves from there, everyone gives each other kisses. 
It started off as conglatutory kisses like before, then it'll go to "kiss it better" kisses
(Like if Ghost trained so hard he gets bloody knuckles Price will kiss them better, or if Soap suffered an injury Gaz would be there to kiss his bandages, or if Gaz just had a rough day and is incredibly stressed you'd kiss his temple)
Then eventually everytime any of you are about to leave for a mission you all give a kiss to whoever's going for good luck, and when they come back it's those pushing mouth aggressively to cheek kisses happy that they came back alive and well.
And it goes to the point where any chance you get you'll exchange small kisses. Passing each other in the hall way? A kiss to the cheek. Finding each other in the kitchen late at night to grab a drink? A kiss on the forehead. One of you had a brutal nightmare? Boom, get kissed on your damn head, hell why not cuddle while you're at it? (You did cuddle while you're at it)
It doesn't take long for the kisses to trail closer to the lips, for the kisses to trail to your neck and collarbones as well. It doesn't take long for it to evolve from small pecks to heated make out sessions, desperate to feel each other's mouths even deeper. It doesn't take long for the five of you to end up swapping spit late at night, sloppily making out with whoever's mouth is open and wanting, stripping each other's clothes even with your mouth occupied.
After that it's no question to kiss the homies goodnight, hell it usually ends with more than a kiss.
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all-seeing-ifer · 1 year
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But you are saying you don’t like angel then?
oh I fucking love the guy! he's my wet rag man he's my purse dog man he's a sad loser vampire who spends most of his screentime either moping or getting kidnapped which is what I want to see in a man. my opinion that him and buffy shouldn't end up together and the enjoyment i get from seeing him absolutely miserable every other episode do nothing to change this
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dollita-fawn · 5 months
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A Step Further
NSFW AUDIO ⚠️ (just Leon dying)
pairing- RE2 Leon x GN! Reader
Summary- Giving Leon his first blowjob.
25 days of Kinkmas day 4- edging ig?
NSFW WARNING:
                 contains- Virgin Leon, oral sex (m!receiving), sub!leon, dom!reader, brief edging, subby leon begging a bit
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You and your boyfriend, Leon, are in your apartment, lying on your couch. The room is dimly lit, only illuminated by the glow of the television. You're both watching some action movie and are feeling pretty mellow and relaxed. Leon's mind begins to drift, his eyes falling on you.
You feel his eyes on you and look over at him. You see him staring at you, and you both exchange a look. "What's up?" You ask. Leon turns his attention back to the movie. "Nothing, you just look really pretty right now." His response made you smile, he was always so sweet. He always made it known to you just how much he adored you.
You lean forward, pressing an affectionate kiss to his lips. You couldn't resist, he was just too cute, the way he got too shy to look at you after a compliment.
You begin to pull away from the kiss, but Leon takes initiative. His hands cup the back of your head, pulling you in for more. At an unexpected turn of events, things start to get more heated, his tongue greedily searches for yours. His lips devour yours with desperate want, your salivas mixing. He was making such cute, soft sounds into your mouth at each caress of your lips.
You gently straddle him, your thighs resting on the couch on either side of him as you sit on his lap. His hands start to wander over your clothes, touching everything he could. This was usually as far as the two of you would go. You'd never gone past the heated make out because you didn't want to rush him. He wasn't very experienced, to say the least. You didn't have a problem with that of course, as badly as you wanted to give him those experiences, you had been patient.
But as you sit in his lap, you can feel his growing arousal. He was a panting, blushing mess just from kissing. Not to mention, he was rocking a full boner that desperately wanted to be set free from his pants. He'd never ask you to take care of that, though. He didn't want to scare you off. But you knew he had needs that you could satisfy, how could you just let him suffer?
You slowly start to grind your hips against him as the kiss goes on. His breath catches in his throat at the rubbing sensation. You were killing him right now. The simple feeling of you on top of him was almost too much. His hands started to move under your shirt, wanting to explore more of you. Maybe tonight, you'd take things a step further.
You nibble at his lower lip, bringing out a soft moan from him. It was adorable how such simple things could get him so excited. You pull away from his lips, looking at him for a moment. His face was flushed, his pupils huge. You couldn't just leave him like this, you knew he wanted more even if his mouth didn't say it. His eyes were pleading.
You slowly pull yourself away, and slump to the floor. You rest on your knees before him, between his legs. Leon watches you curiously. As your hands start to undo his belt, it starts to click in his mind what's about to happen. And as you unzip his pants and start to pull them off of him, it really sets in. He's now sitting there in his boxers, unable to hide his erection, feeling vulnerable and exposed. You can see his full outline, and the wet spot from where his pre cum had been steadily leaking.
You start to pull his boxers down to fully expose him. "W-wait..." he interrupts and you pause halfway, looking up at him waiting for him to continue. "You really don't have to force yourself to do this..." You giggle at that. "I'm not 'forcing myself'. I want to please you, Leon." His palms start to get sweaty. This was really happening. You wanted to. "Are you sure? I don't want you to feel obligated..."
You simply continue in removing his boxer briefs in response. His cock springs out, a beautiful sight. You take a moment to appreciate it. It was pretty in color, just the right amount of veins, perfectly curved. He was holding his breath in anticipation, he looked so nervous yet so eager at the same time.
You start by pressing tiny kisses to his sensitive tip, causing him to twitch. His reactions were just adorable, you couldn't help but want to tease him.
Your tongue starts to trace over his glistening slit, making him tense. "S-shit..mnn," Leon grips the cushions of the couch when you start to wrap your lips around him. It was enough to make his brain go dumb. When you take him deeper into your mouth, he can't help but whine. "Ahnn..fuck," You start using your tongue once more, circling the head of his cock.
Unable to help himself, his hips jerk into you, forcing himself even deeper. As he reaches the entrance of your throat, you bob your head, taking him all the way down. "Hnng~" he cries out, panting and letting out the whiniest moans you've ever heard. You use both of your hands, one gently gripping him at the base, the other teasing and fondling his balls. His eyes are rolling back, toes clenching against the carpet of your floor as you use your full efforts to please him.
He'd never imagined a blowjob could feel this good. You were sucking the life out of him, making him sound so pathetic. Not to mention the sight of you drooling all over him, and the lewd gushy sound it made when his dick reached in your throat. He was completely at your mercy.
You were continuing for a solid 5 minutes before stopping for air. In truth the only reason you stopped was because you felt him about to explode, he was throbbing, his balls tightening. You couldn't let it end that fast. "Why'd you stop.." he whines, "I was so close..please."
"C'mon beg for me then," you urge. He looks away embarrassed, trying to slow his breathing as well. "Please.." he starts. "Please what? Say it for me." You were just tormenting him at this point.
"P-please let me cum...please." he starts to beg and plead like you asked, completely weak for you. "Mnn...good boy." you praise before taking him into your mouth once more. Bobbing your head mercilessly deep throating his length, bringing out almost girly moans from him. He wasn't even attempting to quiet himself anymore. He couldn't.
He was already reaching his peak, praying you wouldn't edge him again. "Feels s' good I can't hold it anymore..." he whimpers. You start focusing more on the top, sucking mostly just the tip while your hand stroked the rest. All your slobbering allowed your hand to glide along him with ease. "Shit," he cries, "I'm cumming...please don't stop..please..." He was squirming as of trying to get away. You considered cutting him off again, but that would just be cruel. He was in desperate need of release.
You stick your tongue out, keeping it pressed against the head while continuing to pump the rest with your hand. His voice reaches a high octave as he starts to spurt all over your tongue and face. His eyes shut tightly, teeth clenched almost painfully hard. You continue milking him with your palm, getting every last drop.
"Fuck," he pants, "I can't think straight it's too much...please." With a final full stroke, you let him go. Your fingertips collect the mess on your face. Not letting it go to waste, you swallow every bit of cum he spilled. Leon's eyes watch you with pure affection, only half open as he starts to come back to reality.
"You're too good at that," he chuckles, "Way better than my hand that's for sure."
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skzdarlings · 1 year
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04. sharing a bed series ; skz ; hyunjin
masterlist.
sharing a bed series part 4/8. because it’s the cheesiest most classic trope and it’s FUN. -
pairing: hwang hyunjin/reader content info: sexual content. friends2lovers, sharing a bed trope. penetrative sex n the pull out method lol. also hyunjin n reader were drugged the night before, premise is based around them getting married in vegas under the influence and not remembering how it happened in the morning. drama llama antics ensue.
-
Hyunjin has the heart of a sentimental corvid; he loves his people, but he’s weird and sneaky about it.  His propensity for dramatics is only in certain situations and the rest of the time he is quiet and tends to balk at grand displays.   He definitely does not like cuddling or hugging.  He will only begrudgingly suffer through it when his more physically affectionate friends get the bright idea to attack him with their loving arms. 
So you are wildly confused when you wake up in your hotel room with Hyunjin plastered to you, hugging you so tightly that you are halfway convinced he glued himself there.  His chin is nestled on your shoulder, his breath coming softly against your neck.  The hood of his grey sweatshirt is pulled over his head but some of his long blonde hair still falls on your face.  You blow at it unsuccessfully, getting some in your eye.  He holds you tighter.   
What the hell?
You arrived in Las Vegas yesterday and while most of last night is a foggy blur, you do remember the room had two twin beds.  Sure enough, there is a second bed just a few feet from yours, the covers completely untouched.  The neatly made bed is a stark contrast to the mess of your bed: the duvet sliding off the foot, the pillows on the floor, the bedding partially untucked.  All the sheets are wrapped around your body like a cocoon while a shivering Hyunjin clings to you, presumably for warmth.    
You try to roll over but your bedsheet-burrito has you trapped, never mind Hyunjin’s death grip of a spoon. 
“Hyunjin,” you whisper.  “I can’t breathe.”
He grumbles and squeezes you, making you squeak.
“Hyunjin,” you say, a bit louder.  “Wake up.”
He groans in his sleep and buries his face further in your neck.  His nuzzling sends shivers shooting down your spine. 
“Hyunjin.”  It comes out like a croak.   You try wriggling your shoulders.  “Hyunjin, wake up!” 
He makes a disgruntled sound but doesn’t move.
“Oh my god,” you say.  “How are you such a bitch even when sleeping? Wake up!” 
When he stays sleeping, you are forced to take drastic action.  You turn your face and blow, hard.   His face scrunches up and he finally stirs. 
“Ew,” he says, slowly blinking his eyes open.  His mouth draws into a sour pout, his brow tight.  “Stop.  Your breath is so disgusting.”
“Ahem.”
He makes a fist and rubs his eyes.   His dark brows are still furrowed but there is modicum of clarity when he looks at you.  It takes a minute to fully register your proximity, his eyes flicking here and there.  Finally, they open wide.  
With remarkable speed, Sleepy Hyunjin concedes leeway to Drama Queen Hyunjin.   He mewls like a frightened cat, ripping away so quickly that it knocks the air out of you with an oof. 
“What—” he starts.
He is interrupted when his thrashing makes him slide.  You are still bundled in your bedsheet-prison and can only watch as the clumsy oaf slides backwards right off the bed.  All those long limbs make a frantic windmill as he shrieks on his way down, hitting the floor with a heavy crash and groan. 
“You okay?” you ask. 
“Ugh,” he replies.   “My head.”
“Are you dying?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.  Well, when you’re done, come help me.”
His hand appears first, thumping onto the messy bed.  His head follows with an exhausted peek over the mattress.  His hood has fallen back and his long hair is infuriatingly neat considering everything.  Hyunjin is so beautiful that it is ridiculous.  All he does is run his long fingers through his hair, shake his head a little, and he looks picture perfect. 
“You’re staring,” he says with a scowl. 
“It’s because you’re so ugly,” you say. 
“Liar,” he says.  He makes a V with his fingers and licks between them.  “I’m sexy and you love me.” 
He is correct, so it is only natural that you try biting him.    
You chomp at him when he approaches, threatening to bite his fingers when they get too close to your face.  He pinches your nose between two knuckles and squeezes.
“Hyunjiiiiin, staaawp,” you say in a nasally whine.
He does, but only after playfully snapping his own jaws in your direction. 
“I should just leave you here and have a peaceful day,” he says.
“I’ll kill you and bury you in the desert.”
“Gross.  Can’t you bury me on the strip?”
“I’m gonna feed your carcass to some desert scorpions.”
“Ew.” 
It takes some effort, but Hyunjin manages to find where your blanket-burrito starts.  He grabs it and tugs like the annoying bimbo he is.  Your protest comes too late and he whips the blanket open, sending you flying off the bed.  You land with a heavy thud of your own. 
“Oops,” he says.  He rustles through the sheets to peer over the edge of the bed.  “Are you okaaaa—whaaaat are you wearing?”
You were already dizzy before Hyunjin decided to throw you around like a human tennis ball, but now it’s even worse. 
You have no idea what happened last night but it clearly involved a hit of something way, way, way stronger than usual.  It takes you a minute to come back to reality.  After shaking your head a few times, you are able to push yourself into a sitting position.  You finally look down.
You freeze. 
“Hyunjin,” you say.  “What the fuck am I wearing?”
“That’s what I just—”
“Hyunjin.  What the fuck am I wearing?!”
It is an utterly useless question because it is abundantly obvious that you are wearing a wedding dress.   A big, poofy, princess wedding dress with giant puffed up 1980s sleeves and enough cleavage on display that Hyunjin almost falls off the bed because he is tilting his head so much. 
You yank up the skirt as if that will offer any answers.  You find a pair of white stockings, one still neatly clipped to a thigh garter and the other halfway down your calf.   You stare at that stocking for a long moment, the vaguest recollection of something fighting its way through the fog of your druggy, drunk memory.   
“Uh,” Hyunjin says. 
You look up at him but his eyes are downturned to his own wrist.  You look there, your own eyes widening when you see what he sees. 
Your missing garter is looped around his wrist like a silky white bracelet. 
An image comes flooding back.  The periphery is still in smog, but you distinctly remember Hyunjin kneeling in front of you, gathering his long hair into a ponytail as he smirked up at you.  You remember him lifting your skirt, his head disappearing under the pile of white lace. 
You look at each other at the same time.  Did he just have the same memory?  Does he remember more?  You have no idea and you can’t bring yourself to ask.  Your voice is shot to hell, swallowed up by the heart that seems to have jumped into your throat.   
The silence is tense.  It is hotter than the desert in here. 
“We didn’t…?” he finally says, pointing between the two of you. 
“No way,” you say.  It sounds very uncertain. 
He lifts his other hand to tuck some hair behind his ears.  That’s when you see it.  Hyunjin wears so many rings so often that you completely missed it at first.   But right now his hands are bare save for one unfamiliar ring in a very particular spot. 
Hyunjin follows the trajectory of your horrified gaze and freezes when he spots the wedding ring.  He slaps a hand over his mouth, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead. 
“Oh my god,” you say.  You are afraid to check your own hand but it is imperative.   Hyunjin looks at you, his shocked hand still covering his mouth.  Together, you watch as your hand shakily rises out of the pile of white princess lace. 
There is a wedding ring on your finger too. 
You and Hyunjin scream at the same time, him clapping both hands over his ears as he hollers and you shaking your head and kicking your feet.  After your mini-freak out, you wave your hands to silence him.
“Stop, stop!” you say.  “It’s okay.  Be calm.  Be quiet.  This is okay.”
“We got married,” he wails, dragging his fingers down his face.  “My mom is gonna kill me.” 
“Your mom?  YOUR MOM?  Hyunjin, I’m gonna kill you before you even leave this city, so don’t fucking worry about your mom.”  You mime throttling him because he is too far to reach. 
Hyunjin flops down on the bed.  He lays on his back with his arms folded like he is ready to be mummified. 
“Oh my gawd,” he says.  “Oh my gawwwd…”
“Look, we might not have even done it,” you say.  It takes a lot of effort and you fall on your ass twice, but you manage to stagger ungracefully to your feet.  “Some rings and a dress don’t mean anything.  We were probably just goofing around.  What do you remember?” 
He is still in a mummification pose, his eyes closed.   
“Nothing,” he says.  He frowns.  “No, wait.  You were hitting on some ugly bitch of a man and didn’t listen to me, as usual, and the loser put something in your drink so I drank it to prove a point.  But then you still drank it because you’re the worst, and I dragged you out of there.”  He covers his face with both hands.  “Then we got married and ruined our lives.” 
“Okay, the last part you don’t know for sure,” you say.  You stumble around the bed.  “I’m gonna go wash up and clear my head and sort this out, because there’s no way we—”  You stop when you spy something sitting on the television stand.  It takes a few clumsy steps to reach, but you get there.
“Uh oh,” you say.
“Is that a marriage certificate?”  Hyunjin asks.
“No.”
“Are you lying to me?”
“Yes.” 
“Cool.”  He rolls over so he is facedown on the bed, his voice muffled by the messy blankets.  “I love this.”
“I’m gonna… go… wash up still,” you stay.  You sigh and gather up your dress to stomp over to the bathroom door. 
“Brush your teeth,” Hyunjin says.  “Your breath is gross.” 
“I hope you suffocate over there and make me a widow.”  You close the door with a pointed shove. 
You want to disobey him on principle, but there is a truly nasty taste in your mouth so you brush your teeth before anything else.  You avoid your reflection for as long as possible because the crazed madwoman in the mirror is a terrifying sight to behold. 
You reckon with her monstrous appearance eventually, tidying up as best you can.   You remove the stockings and garter, gulping when the memory returns.  You splash a lot of cold water on your face and it helps ground you. 
Just as you begin to feel cleansed, you feel an itch on your throat.  You crane your neck and tentatively touch the sensitive indentation, the raised bruising of a hickey.   Touching it awakens another memory, one that strikes hot at your core. 
Hyunjin.  You.  This hotel room.  He pressed you against the door and caged you in, forearms on either of your head.  Despite his presence looming over you, you did not feel nervous.   You touched him as if that intimacy was something you always shared.  You remember him cupping your face in one hand and turning your head, him kissing you softly on your temple and cheek, him breathing lightly over your throat before sucking a hard kiss under your jaw.  He was all teeth and tongue, drawing moans out of you while you bucked against him.   You remember him grinding against you, remember him pinning you to the door.   You remember stringing your arms around his neck and him picking you up, then it all goes black again.   
You turn away from the mirror, still holding your neck. 
Did you… no.
Did you?
No.
You didn’t fuck Hyunjin.  No way.  You would have remembered that much.  If nothing else, there would be evidence now.  A used condom or a mess somewhere, a twinge between your legs.  You are both fully dressed.  You even have underwear on.  It’s not the underwear you were wearing when you first left the hotel room, but it is underwear nonetheless. 
One thing is certain; you did not go that far. He took a bite out of you and carried you to the bed where you probably passed out.  How you got into a blanket-burrito, you are not sure, but at least it protected your dignity.  Whatever was left of it, at least. 
You step out of the bathroom only to walk straight into a pacing Hyunjin.   You bonk heads and cuss each other out, swatting the other person out of your way. 
He walks over to the bathroom and is about to step inside when you release a sigh. 
“I have a hickey,” you say.   
He pauses in the bathroom doorway. 
“You gave it to me,” you add. 
You cross your arms when he turns around, his gaze suddenly too hard to meet.  You tap your foot and stare at the wall. 
“I know,” he says.  “I remember it.” 
That draws your attention.  You look right at him and plant your hands on your hips. 
“Well, what else do you remember?” you ask. 
“I—I—ugh!  This is so annoying!  Ugh!”  He grabs his head and shakes it like a snow globe. 
His stupid beautiful hair is barely ruffled and he still looks amazing when he surfaces.  He runs his teeth over his plump bottom lip and you suddenly remember him grabbing your face with both hands, him smiling at you as a hot breeze fluttered around you, him holding you steady as he planted a big, wet kiss on you.  It makes your whole body lock with tension, barely paying attention to the Hyunjin in front of you now, the Hyunjin on the verge of a meltdown as he intentionally smacks his head against the doorway. 
“We came back here,” he says.  His whole face is scrunched up with disgust like he just ate something bad.  “Then I gave you that.”  He slaps a hand over his face.  “Then you… tried…”  He puts the other hand on his face too.
“I tried what?” you ask, heat creeping your neck. 
“You put your hand down my pants,” he croaks, hands over his eyes.  “I said we should wait until morning and you started crying.  I think you tried to give me a lap dance while crying, actually.”  That does sound like you, drugged or not.  “Then I…”  He points to the messy bed.  “I wrapped you in the sheet to protect your honour.”   
“My honour?  Ewwww.  Don’t call it that.”
“I’m gonna go drown myself in the shower.” 
“Hyunjin, wait.”
Once more, you stop him before he crosses the door.  He sighs and his shoulders deflate.  Pushing a hand through his hair, he turns around.
“What?” he says. 
“I’ll take care of this, okay,” you say gently.  “We weren’t ourselves.  Thank you… for taking care of me.  Seriously.” 
He sniffs and looks aside, the tips of his ears turning red.  You try to ignore the pitter-patter of your heart.  
“It’s Vegas,” you say.  “I bet they have drive-through divorces.  I’m just… I’m just sorry this happened.” 
“You are?” he says, staring at the ground. 
“Of course,” you say with as much sincerity as you can muster.  “Hyunjin, I know you.  You’re a goofy old romantic.  I’m sure you’re not happy about your first technical marriage happening while you were drugged up, and to someone you don’t even love.  Right?”
He looks a little panicked when he meets your gaze.  It flashes in his eyes for a second, then he looks away.  He crosses his arms protectively over his chest.    
“Hyunjin,” you say.  It feels like someone just lit fireworks in your chest.  “You… don’t… love me, right?” 
There is a long moment of silence then he throws both hands in the air. 
“Why do you say it like that?” he demands.  “Would it be that bad if I did?”
“What.” Your jaw falls open.  “You love me?”   
“Unfortunately, yes.  Sorry for inconveniencing you with my goofy romantic feelings.”  He snarls at you.  “It just happened.  If I could have stopped it, I would have, but I can’t.  So live with it.” 
“What kind of love confession is this?  You’ve watched like a million romance dramas and that’s what you come up with?”
“I’m a painter, not a poet.  Good-bye.”  He is quick this time, jumping into the bathroom and slamming the door closed.   
It leaves you standing there, jaw still hanging open. 
Hyunjin loves you. 
Of course Hyunjin loves you.  How could you be so stupid?  All this time, you had yourself convinced your best friend was unattainable because he’s the most gorgeous creature on earth, but all this time he loved you and you didn’t even notice.   He drank a drugged drink just to protect you.  He got a bit nutty in the head and married you, but even at his most fucked up, some intrinsic part of him sprung to your defense.  No matter how out of his mind, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything that could potentially hurt you. 
Oh my god.  
Hyunjin loves you.  You love Hyunjin. 
You are pacing when Hyunjin exits the bathroom and smacks into you.  You bonk heads and curse, again, then he brushes past without saying anything more.  You watch him go to the clean bed, watch him fold back the covers.   He takes off his hoodie and his pants.  Despite how many times you have casually dressed down around each other, this time you find yourself looking away, hot in the face.   When you look back, he is in a t-shirt and his boxers, sliding under the covers. 
“What are you doing?” you ask, fiddling with your thumbs.
“Going back to sleep,” he says.  “I’m tired.”  
He doesn’t look at you once.  He rolls onto his side and faces the wall, laying stiff as a board. 
You touch a finger to the mark on your neck and shiver.
“Hyunjin,” you say, to which he just grunts in reply.  “I want to sleep too.  I’m sorry, but can you help me with the dress?” 
He exhales and closes his eyes, shoulders dropping, but then he flips the covers down and gets out of bed.   He still doesn’t meet your gaze.   His strides are long and quick and, before you can blink, he is in front of you. 
You open your mouth to speak but he grabs you and spins you around.  It feels like an electric zap from your heart to your pussy, hands instinctively clutching your chest in surprise. 
You can feel him fiddling with a few buttons, muttering expletives to himself.   
He is still wearing the ring.  So are you. 
“Hyunjin,” you say softly.  “I love you too.” 
He has his fingers on the zipper.  He stops. 
“What?” he asks.  He stops touching you entirely so you look back at him.  He is tucking hair behind both ears, shaking his head.  “Don’t just… say it,” he says, still staring sideways.  “That’s worse than not hearing it.” 
“Hyunjin,” you say.  At least he looks at you this time, even if it is with uncharacteristic uncertainty.  You smile at him.  “Unzip me please.” 
You turn back around, chewing on your bottom lip.  
It takes a second, but Hyunjin does what you asked.  You feel one hand on your back, the other circling the zipper.  He tugs it down slowly and you shiver as the cool air conditioned air kisses your back.  His fingers brush your bare skin when releasing the zipper.
“Thank you,” you say, glancing back at him. 
He nods curtly and spins around.  You smile, watching him march back to the bed.   You turn your back to him when you let the dress drop, then you remove your bra.  His open luggage is nearby so you slip a t-shirt out of the suitcase.  It smells like him, his favourite cologne, and that alone gets you hot.  
With a final tug on the hem of the t-shirt, you turn and walk up to the bed he is in.  He is sitting upright but under the covers, his hands folded neatly in his lap while he stares at you. 
“Can I sleep here too?” you ask.  “The other bed is a mess.”
He nods.  A second ago, he refused to look at you and now he can’t stop staring.  It makes you grin, beaming at him as you slide under the covers. 
“You’re staring,” you say. 
“I’m not,” he lies, still staring at you.  He slumps against the headboard and slides down until he is laying flat.  His hair pools around him on the pillow.  Ridiculously gorgeous man. 
You lean over him, staring back.  You rest a hand on his chest and can feel his heart palpitating as quickly as your own. 
“You are staring,” you say, then giggle a little because his expression is still wide-eyed.  “You look like you’ve never seen a woman in bed before, and I know that’s not true.”   
You say it jokingly but he doesn’t laugh.  He tilts his head, his expression softening.  His tongue touches his upper lip then he smiles at you. 
“Not like this,” he says with heart-stopping sincerity.  “Not you.  Not… my wife.” 
Oh god.   People always act like there is something supremely unsexy about wife or husband, some stagnant nothingness that kills sex appeal.  But the second he says that word, it feels like an electric storm ignites between the two of you.   His gaze is dark, his breathing hard, his heart still pounding under your palm.  You suck in a deep breath, a shuddering release.  You are already aching. 
“Hyunjin,” you whisper. 
His hand comes up and cups your face, his thumb stroking your cheek.  It passes over your bottom lip and tugs at it.  It feels like you have a heartbeat between your legs. 
“Fuck,” you say, and swing yourself over him. 
He makes a noise the second you are straddling him, both his hands dropping to hold your hips.   You lean down, your hands on either side of his head.  His eyes are already closed when you start kissing him.  You rock against him, feel him getting harder in his boxers as his hands run up and down your thighs. 
The kiss breaks for a second, just to breathe, and he sighs. 
“Good,” he says.  “You brushed your teeth.”
“You are soooo…”  You try to sound annoyed but it’s impossible.  He laughs, his eyes crinkling with mirth.  “Ughhh, the worst!” 
You roll off him as if you have any intention of denying him, but he doesn’t give you a chance to tease him.   He just follows, rolling on top of you so it’s you pinned under him, the weight of him between your open legs.   He goes right back to kissing you, taking his time, almost torturously slow while pressed so intimately against you.  He licks into your mouth, nips at your bottom lip, steals your breath and comes back for more. 
“Hyunjin.”  You are out of breath.  You grab his face with both hands, gasping against his open mouth. 
“Mm?” he replies, pecking your lips. 
A part of you thinks you could lie in bed all day doing nothing but kiss Hyunjin.  Just a small part.  The rest of you is burning up with the need for much, much more. 
“Make love to me,” you whisper.  His breath stutters.  “Please,” you say.
He nods frantically.  If you weren’t so hazy with want, it might have made you laugh.  As it is, you string your arms around his neck and pull him down for another kiss.  This one gets heated quickly, wet and sloppy and pressed messily to the corner of your mouths, your hands moving over each other, trying to find the hems of your shirts without breaking apart. 
It happens in a frenzy, but you somehow get down to just your underwear.  His boxers land on the lamp and the shirts could have flown out the window for all that you care.  He is laving kisses all over your body and you are so wound up that you get a little teary, arching under him and tugging on his hair. 
“Hyunjin, please,” you say, dragging your nails up his back.  “I need you.”
He looks up at you.  You smile and bite your lower lip.
“I need my husband,” you say.
You are pretty sure you can visibly see his brain short-circuiting.   The next second, he is fully above you, pulling your panties down your hips.  It stays hooked around one ankle but the thought of it leaves your mind quickly.   He slides his hands under your thighs and spreads you open, leaning down to kiss you as he finally eases inside you.   
You both look down at where he inside you.  It feels like your clit is jumping for attention, your whole body shaking when he gently rubs you there while sinking fully in. 
“Okay, okay, okay,” he says, mostly to himself once he fully inside you.  He closes his eyes and breathes a little harder.  “Don’t move,” he says.  He leans down so his chest is against yours, your faces close.  “If you do, this is gonna be over really quickly.”
“Really?” you say with a giggle, pleased he is as unravelled as you. 
He just nods, his eyes still closed.  You kiss his cheek and hold the back of his neck, stroking there lightly and giving him a minute. 
“Feels good,” you say, because it does, even just like this, pressed so tightly together, him so full and hard inside you. 
He just groans, dropping his face to the crook of your neck and shoulder.  You rake your fingers through the hair at his nape when he rocks a testing thrust into you.  You have only just adjusted when those hips starting rocking with fluid determination, rolling steady and deep.  He feels almost impossibly good inside you, driving you into the mattress again and again. 
“Oh my god,” you squeak, putting both arms around his neck and clinging tight.  “Hyunjin.”
He just makes noise, unintelligible sounds that make him sound crazy despite how deftly he is moving.  You feel a bit crazy yourself, blinking at him with your mouth open when he lifts his head.   He kisses you, swallowing up your gasping moans, and presses his forehead to yours.  For someone who claimed to be close, he lasts a long time at a steady pace, the subtle, corded muscles of his slender frame holding taut as he moves. 
“Touch yourself,” he says, and kisses you without waiting for an answer. 
You kiss him back, very messily at that, but you do what he said.  You lick your fingertips and slide that shaking hand between your bodies, getting yourself off just seconds before his hips get erratic and he has to pull out.  He strokes himself to completion just over you, coming on your thighs.  He manages to reserve his strength long enough to gather you in his arms and roll over.  He guides you to rest on top of him, your face in his sweaty neck and your rising-and-falling chest against his own. 
“Why haven’t we been doing that for years?” you mumble. 
He laughs, his hand flying to his face to cover his mouth while he giggles.   The ring catches your eye and you reach for that hand.   He gets quiet, watching you. 
You lace your fingers with his, looking at the ring then looking up at him. 
“We’re a little crazy if we stay like this,” you say. 
He leans in and kisses you for so long that you almost forget what you were saying.  You remember when he smiles down at you, when he squeezes your hand, when he leans in and says, “That’s okay.  I like a little crazy.” 
In agreement, you smile back. 
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